


Homecoming

by cortchuzska



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twincest: Jaime strokes his cock, Cersei strokes her ego.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

Jaime was perfect.

So perfect she would forgive him for being a man; so perfect she would forgive not being him.

Perfect, with his taut muscles rippling at her touch; perfect, with his pale skin and his already clouded eyes, as he leant to her and his fingers pried her cunt open.

“Off with you, brother.”

He quirked a lazy smile. “You are cruel, Cersei.”

Her lids flicked up, and she pointed at the wall before the bed. “Pleasure yourself. Down there: I want to see you.”

Jaime pressed a kiss between her breasts. “It's cold outside.” He rubbed slow circles on her nub to make his point. “You are soft, and so warm, and wet for me.”

“I am. Not for you, though.” Her hands shielded her mound and barred him the way.

“I have been away for too long; I am aching for you, sweet sister.”

“His Grace was too.” She replied with a sour smile. “That big oaf left _me_ aching. See to your needs by yourself, Jaime. You were gone long enough; don't tell me you did not once take care of your tool.”

He lowered his thick eyelashes, abashed. The smile had faded from his lips and he dragged himself off the bed.

Fittingly, if tears were a woman's weapon, her twin's sly smirk stood as his last bulwark; but with her, he let go of the cocky grin that was as Jaime Lannister as his gilded armour. She had known him long before, when he was only her little brother and would do anything she asked of him.

“It is never any good without you, Cersei.”

Her frown turned into a wicked pout. “So you never thought of me, while you were away the time: is it the way of it?”

She forgave him everything but he had to earn it.

Jaime slumped against the wainscoting and bent to his toil with lackadaisical strokes.

“You can't even get properly hard by yourself.” Cersei scoffed. “You are useless, without me.”

“I am useless without you.” He mirrored her words, pleading.

When they had been children playing at being each other, there had been more to it than trading clothes; discarding one's will and wearing the other's, peeling off one body and feeling the other as own; and soon, no play at all.

“You can do better than fiddling around with your toy.” Cersei sneered coming over to him, and tugged sharply on his shaft.

Her brother sucked in a breath. “Please...”

She smacked his mouth. “A lion doesn't beg.”

Jaime flinched back from her raised hand, but she chucked him under his jaw, and purred in a caressing whisper. “Father taught you that, I wonder? And here I thought him so proud of his firstborn son...”

As appraising a long coveted masterpiece in gold-cast chiselled ivory, her feather-light fingers brushed over him, from his forearms to his shoulders and down, raising hairs in their wakes and branding prickles on his chest as they skirted his perking nipples; then her hands pressed along his stomach, followed the darkening trail in its midst and lingered in coils around his navel. Jaime melted to her, his breath ragged and faster as he arched forward craving for her touch but she shoved him back, and spun briskly away.

“Keep on going, brother.”

“Don't leave me just now.”

“You did; you frisked off to war, and nearly forgot the way back.” She stepped further from him. “Now stop dawdling and finish yourself off, if you can.”

Cersei was adamant in denying her help and making things worse for him: Jaime was tethered between bursting desire and struggling for his erection, but his dick had a mind of his own and was more responsive to his twin's scathing jeers, to her hands ghosting over him than to his own pumping.

Fondling himself, he stole her a sidelong glance, but she decided to ignore it; without meeting his eyes, Cersei's gaze roamed over her twin's naked form and trained on his crotch. Jaime set to jerk off for good, threw back his head and let out a groan, still peeping at her.

“You are just showing off, and not even making a good job of it.”

Her feet tapped on the floor oaken planks with an annoyed ring, and Jaime's efforts quickened.

Cersei neared with a disdainful scowl “Did you ever learn how it is done?” She cupped her brother's balls, took his hand and led him along his own length, as she had once helped her twin and driven his quill in his first, splotchy letters.

Jaime could not spell his name nor scramble his signature; Jaime was not Jaime, without her.

Slowly paced at first, mimicking the awed curiosity of their early petting, the groping grew more and more demanding.

With a firm grip on the base, their hands raced back and forth on his manhood, to the moist sensitive head; felt his sack, wrapped around the pillar and traced the ridge on the crown, in a breathless frenzy, they pulled and squeezed again, unrelenting as the tide lashing the Rock; but her brother's towering hardness felt nothing like weathered cold stone, and was hot, and throbbing, and alive in her palms.

Cersei rested her head on his cheek, and a storm of raspy moans broke out from his throat; Jaime scrunched up his nose with a funny noise like he always did when he was close.

She raked a thumbnail on his member tip to scoop up the glistening pearl peeking out from the slit, and brought it to his mouth. Jaime flicked his tongue to her fingers and lapped them clean; when she drew them back, he clicked his lips in disappointment.

“Does it feel good, Jaime?” His cock twitched and Cersei laughed in her throat, rewarding the answer with a punishing squeeze.

Her twin nodded, still groping for coherent words: his eyes had gone so wide she could see herself dancing in them as he heaved and lowered himself, bucking into her palm.

“It feels... You, Cersei. Just you.” He half moaned, half chanted, trying to keep focus and hold off the end, but soon his completion was over him and he spilled white and hot all over their intertwined fingers.

Jaime's knees sagged and he tucked his head into her shoulder with a grunt, numbed and shaking with the last spurts of his hard-won release.

“Here, here, sweet brother. Here: I am here with you.” Cersei tousled the silken locks curling on his nape, and smeared them with his cum. “You are forgiven for having been far from me; you are my other half, and I love you well.”

“I love you too, sweet sister.” Jaime breathed into her neck crook. “It's you where I belong. You, Cersei, and nowhere else.”

He was perfect and she would always welcome him back, but a Lannister always paid his debt, and Jaime had to earn her forgiveness first.


End file.
